


Chapter 1: Did Momma raise a fool?

by Kikaga



Series: Bound with a Bow [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Eventual Mild BDSM, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insecure Daryl, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Merle Being an Asshole, Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikaga/pseuds/Kikaga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The question is not whether or not Lexi can handle these troubling walking corpses but rather the living.</p>
<p> (Story timeline start before Season 1. And might not follow exactly to the TV storyline.) </p>
<p>I do not own The Walking Dead, its characters or universe.</p>
<p>Contents violence, foul language and eventual sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 1: Did Momma raise a fool?

**Author's Note:**

> Italics are thoughts.

**Glancing up, the day's rain clouds still lurked heavy in the Georgia sky. They were painted deep violet gleaming with orange highlights. "It'll be dark soon...but you were worth it." _Great, now I'm talkin' to the pelt of the rabbit I just ate._ Thinking to yourself, you shake your head at your own stupidity. Then, you kick mud into what was left of your cooking fire. Still wet from the storm, you run your fingers through your shoulder length hair before pulling it into a high ponytail.**

**Suddenly, your eyes shoot up to the tree line as you hear rustling. _Freakin' Eaters!_ Apprehensively, you throw your pack onto your back and grab your compound bow. _You_ hurry in the direction of the highway, as you hear the heaving gurgle of the zombies' groans get closer. Quickly, you sprint through a forest clearing, looking back only once. _Shit! Looks like 15 of those nasty things. I can't keep running in this slick ass, Georgia mud. My boots ain't got no traction. Gonna turn an ankle and be dinner fur'sure._ Changing directions, running parallel now in the highway's tree line, you hurdle several downed trees, creating some much needed distance. You spot a dense, sturdy oak, "Perfect!" Hurriedly, you kick off your mud-caked boots, hooking them and your bow on your pack. Then, you climb the tree as if your life depends on it, because, ironically enough, it did.**

                                                                                                          
**Flashback**

_"Wake up sleepy head..." you groan in reply." Lexi, come on now. Dinner ain't gonna hunt itself," you groan again and wrap tightly under your fleece blanket. "Dangit Lex, get up or I ain't gonna teach ya crap!"_

_"Hrmmmm, alright," You pout as you climb out of bed. "Why ya gotta be so mean, Josh?" Your brother simply scratched his fingers through his jet-black hair and shook his head._

_"Ya wanna learn tracking and how to use that new bow of yours, then we gotta get moving." He said sternly before throwing you one of his infamous lopsided grins._

_Outside the tiny cabin were the Kentucky Appalachian Mountains. The trees were turning their beautiful warm hues while preparing for winter. The streams were cold and clear. The wildlife was plentiful, and delicious. The cabin might be the place you laid your head at night but those mountains were your true home. "Glad you remembered your leather jacket, it's supposed to be colder today." Josh smiled and his bright blue eyes twinkled. "Momma didn't raise ya a fool." You giggle, suddenly getting up at the crack of dawn was worth it, as you grab your birthday bow and skip toward thicker forest._

  
   **The smell of rotten flesh that has been roasting in the sun fills the air, and draws you from your thoughts. _Disgustin'_ You let out a sigh as the decaying zombies shamble passed the tree. _Yet here I am, a fool caught in a tree. Josh, I miss ya brother._ To steady your quivering lip, you forcefully bite down on it and taste a hint of copper in your mouth. _It's no time to get of emotional._ Tears had run down your cheeks, you quickly wipe them on the sleeve of your jacket, letting the familiar scent of leather comfort you. As the last undead disappears out of sight, dragging his intestines behind him, you shake your head, "Shew, time to find the truck." Promptly, you hit your biker boots against each other, watching the dried mud chunks fall to the ground below. As you slip them back on, you feel the almost soothing weight of their steel toes. You descend your lofty hiding place as if you were a monkey in a past life. "Thank you, friend," you whisper, patting the base of the oak tree.**

**As you cautiously crest the hill, the trees break way and the last of the day's sunlight blinds you temporarily. Once, your eyes stop watering and adjust to the light and you begin scanning the highway. You spot your black truck with the makeshift camper made into its bed. You also see a horde of those zombies coming your way, blocking you escape from Atlanta. _Sure as hell ain't heading back toward that damned city. It will be the death of me... just like Josh._ In anger, a knot grows between your dainty eyebrows. "Well, Shit!" With all the stamina you have left, you make a break for the camper knowing it's reinforced frame would be safer than spending all night in a tree.**

**The camper had become home, mainly since the zombies couldn't open the door hatches and there were no windows to smash into. _Mhmm. My Redneck Riviera._ You stretch out on the improvised bed of quilts and pillows you had found while searching abandoned houses and, of course, pelts from previous dinner hunts.Making a few deep breaths, you try to relax, knowing it will be an extremely long night of moaning and groaning as the horde passes. As you begin to doze off, you swear you hear the oddest thing, a motorcycle driving by. "What a crazy imagination I have these days."**

 

_**Flashback**_

_Stepping outside, you see Josh wielding a big metal frame into the bed of his long bed, pickup truck. Confused, you ask, "What are ya doin' that for, big brother?"_

_"Lex, go back in the cabin and get to packing. We're leavin' as soon as I get this here camper finished." He said firmly._

_"WHY? I love it here! This here's our home!" You scream as you fight your emotions._

_"LEX! You're 13. I'm 17. Momma just died in a hospital bed, and I ain't got time to explain everything to you! Now go pack!"_

_"NO!" your voice cracks as tears run down your face._

_"They will come and take you from me! Now pack your crap Alexia, or it gets left here when we're leavin'!" Josh's voice was hurtful while his eyes were full of worry._

 

 

     **Suddenly, a familiar noise draws you back to reality... _A Motorcycle?_  The engine idles to a stop right outside the driver's side of the truck. _Please keep movin'. Nothing to see here._**

**"Roads're blocked, we takin' the woods?" softly mumbled a raspy voice.**

**"Like Hell! I ain't leavin' my bike on the highway to go hide in no fuckin' trees. Take your bitch panties off and grow a pair. We're stayin' here," an cocky voice, answered defiantly.**

  
**_Oh shit, what a jerkoff! This can't be good._ You draw police issued handguns in each hand and pray they keep moving. The guns did appear to make you more dangerous, they were, after all, out of rounds.**

**"I ain't a bitch" the first voice grumbles under his breath.**

**A patronizing voice chuckles, "Yeah, okay."**

**Abruptly, the camper's doors are wrenched open. _Well, shit._ In the opening, there stood two men. The man centered in the doorframe, who clearly opened the doors, was hardened looking for middle-aged. He had his hair buzzed short, kind of reminding you of a skinhead or something. A smug, stubble covered smirk slowly spread across his squared jaw. _You must be the jerkoff!_ Standing slightly behind his shoulder was somewhat younger man with a scruffy, short goatee. He has a leaner muscle tone and his steel blue eyes are staring down a crossbow scope pointed in your direction. _Nice Arms...rr... crossbow._**

  
**"Well brother, look what we got 'ere, 'Survival Barbie'! The smug mug chuckles at his own words as if they are the funniest thing he had ever heard. He, then, points to your pack and bow, "And she's even got all her accessories."**

**You glare at him, "I aint no Barbie, asshole!" You wave your guns, "Now get outta here!" _Dirty Blonde hair and bright blue eyes, maybe. But a Barbie? Never! I aint a little, plastic toy to be played with_. You fume to yourself.**

**"Merle, they're coming," Crossbow man mutters under his breath before taking a shove from the older man's shoulder.**

**Abruptly, his laughter stops and his pale eyes stare coldly at you. "Listen, Barbie," His voice, flat, and heavy, "We ain't got all day. They gonna be 'ere real soon, ya feel me? Either u let us in or we all three gonna be walker bait."**

**"Merle-" Crossbow man begins to speak anxiously, before he's interrupted.**

**"Your choice, Barbie," His eyes iced over, showing no hint of concern as if he could just stand there all day.**

**_Could he be serious?_ You momentary glance at his scruffy companion's face, you find only a stony expression. However, hearing groans grow louder, you see a brief moment of panic in his eyes. So apparently, there was your answer. **

**Nodding slowly. "Fine, but no more Barbie bullshit! I aint nobody's little toy to be played with." You keep a gun pointed at each of them as they cautiously climb in and close the door firmly.**

**You notice this Merle guy then shoots his so-called brother a wolfish grin. _Did Momma raise me a fool after all?_ "Whatever ya say, cupcake."**

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think... <3


End file.
